


Veld

by MMonster



Category: Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: "God, you're beautiful."His eyes drink in her face as his hands cup it. And improbably, Diana doesn't behave like he is just another one telling her something all of mankind must helplessly confess to her all the time. She smiles, almost shyly, and brings her hand to his face, fingers lightly exploring the texture of his stubble, so unfamiliar to her."So are you."*Just some feelings-heavy smut for Diana and Steve. I felt like they deserved it.





	Veld

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to DannyP, who helped me reign in some of my worst tendencies (except impatience). You're the bestest!
> 
> *
> 
> I really, really tried to write smut, just smut. But Diana and Steve bashed me on the head with their feelings, SO MANY FEELINGS, until they were all over the place. Blame them.
> 
> Enjoy!

_She is a Goddess,_  Steve thinks when Diana finishes undressing. The buckles and intricacies of her armor were too much for fumbling fingers to navigate, so she took a step back and dealt with them herself. Now, the expanse of smooth, olive skin, perfect with languid curves and dips, is exposed in front of him.

Her expression is open, vulnerable, her eyes alight with the same heat he feels down to his bones. His cock twitches painfully when Diana's hand goes down and parts the lips of her own sex, a slender, elegant finger dipping to lightly touch her clitoris. She bites her lower lip, and her invitation is now almost a demand.

Steve breaks the spell and steps towards her. Aside from his jacket, he is still clothed, and while Diana's hands rise to pull at his shirt and try to remedy that, his left hand holds her head close to his, so he can trace her lips with his tongue, nibble on her chin, kiss and breathe against the soft dip of her aristocratic cheekbone. His right hand, almost on its own volition, slides down to occupy the place Diana's hand left against her warm, wet core. He cups it, feeling the rough and yet soft fur and the slickness on his palm.

Two fingers carefully part it, and he feels the hidden flesh on the pads of his fingers. Diana is so strong, so fast, so perfect. She raised a tank over her head and threw it like it weighed as much as if it were a toy. But the smooth wetness Steve explores with his fingers is yielding and impossibly soft. His index finger finds the shy hood of her clitoris, just a tiny nub, and rubs it experimentally.

Diana lets out a sound that runs down Steve's spine and etches itself on his soul, wanting, vulnerable, impossibly sensual. His cock pulses in time with his rapid breath, and he pokes at her again, chasing that sound, willing it to emerge again. It does, and Steve pathetically rubs his still confined cock against her hipbone, the thought of taking it out and rubbing it directly against her skin, her cunt, the inside of her, and bringing that sweet mewl out of her lips with it driving him a bit crazy.

Diana manages to expose Steve's chest to her touch, and he very regretfully slips his fingers from her core to help her finish undressing him, until he stands there in briefs that are ridiculously stretched by an erection that is already bordering on painful. They don't stop kissing, touching, feeling, not for a second. A button, a kiss, a button, a touch, a button, a sigh over heated skin. Sliding against each other, skin, lips, teeth, tongues.

Steve tries not to, so hard, because for a moment he forgets that Diana grew up on an Island full of beautiful women and in which she was the only child. He tries to not say it, because he irrationally thinks she must have heard it a thousand times before, because why wouldn't she? But it slips out against his will.

"God, you're beautiful."

His eyes drink in her face as his hands cup it. And improbably, Diana doesn't behave like he is just another one telling her something all of mankind must helplessly confess to her all the time. She smiles, almost shyly, and brings her hand to his face, fingers lightly exploring the texture of his stubble, so unfamiliar to her.

"So are you." She leans to kiss him again, stopping with her lips just short of his, noses touching. They breathe the same air for a moment, before Steve closes the space. His lips are dry and slightly cracked, her lips are soft and full. The errant thought of feeling them on other parts of him makes him swallow and produces the image of Diana in front of him, mouth on his cock and big, dark eyes locked into his. Steve feels almost profane as he pictures a Goddess adoring him. Diana captures his lower lip between her teeth and nips at it, running her tongue over the abused area afterwards, and this time Steve pictures himself kneeling in front of her, worshiping her as she deserves, mouth slick with her come and ears full with her moans.

Diana pulls away, and the whimper of disappointment Steve lets out would be embarrassing if he had enough presence of mind to care. But she takes a tiny step back and her fingers, which had been exploring the hardness of his chest, slide down to the edge of his briefs. She stares at him asking for permission, and the look on his eyes, pupils blown wide, is enough assent. So she slides the piece of cloth down, and shamelessly, unapologetic, watches the red and purple, pulsating organ be revealed.

"It looks nothing like it did in the caves." She comments, and if not for the heated look on her face that makes Steve's mouth dry and water at once, it would have been funny. But Diana's expression is painfully open and sincere, almost inquiring, but not because of the difference between a soft and turgid member - Clio's treatises covered that subject as well - but because the sight of such an organ makes her insides clench and dampen even further, and the passing thought of touching it, of guiding it towards her core and pushing it inside of her makes her bite her lip and shiver. She rubs her legs together and a delicious spark of pleasure travels up her spine.

Steve lets out a helpless groan when Diana, after her careful, visual consideration of his erection, doesn't hesitate to slide her fingers over it, exploring the unfamiliar feel and texture. Like velvet over metal, it is pleasant and warm. Slick weeps from the hole on the head of it, which she gathers with her fingers. Steve wants to teach her how to do it right, how to masturbate him, how to hold him to bring the most pleasure. But she is barely touching his cock and his balls are already drawing up to shoot, and while seeing his come painting her hand and arm and belly would be beautiful, it’s not the moment just yet.

So he lets Diana explore at her will, clumsy but careful, curious and earnest and so impossibly sweet he wants to take a bite out of her. The naivete and sincerity with which she does it is almost worse than feeling her expertly pump him would be. Not because he is attracted to innocence, or because he enjoys the imbalance her lack of experience with men could bring, if they were different people. But because it is so helplessly Diana, to see something new and want to explore it, fearlessly, stubbornly, even if there are things she might not know.

Suddenly, Steve is not worried about coming anymore. Not because he isn't aroused, he doubts he has ever been as turned on as he is now and can only hope he might get the opportunity of being again in the future. But because she is Diana, and in that moment, looking at her, feeling her, there is nothing he wants more than to please her, adore her, love her. Her eyes lock into his and there is a soft edge to her heat, a sweet smile playing on her lips.

The urge to get closer to her is unbearable, and Steve doesn't resist it. His lips meet hers for a slow, warm kiss, and his hands helplessly, but with a speck of urgency born from the fear that this is too perfect to be true, try to map her. His fingers slide through her full, silky hair, down the elegant nape of her neck and the smooth expanse of her back. He feels the ridges of her spine with his fingertips and loves how the light touch makes Diana shiver.

His hands slide down the graceful curve of her behind, and his fingers come to rest where it meets her legs. His thumbs can't help but move over the impossibly velvety expanse of skin available to them. Without thinking about it, Steve uses the leverage to pull Diana even closer. For a moment, he is almost surprised that it works, that he lifts her slightly so the front of her body now rests completely pressed on his, so much so that Diana's hand, still on his cock, is trapped between their bodies before she brings it to hold on to his shoulder, to keep them balanced.

Steve almost expected to not be able to move her at all. There must be a law of physics somewhere that dictates that impossibly beautiful beings who are able to lift tanks and do any of the unworldly things that she does should weight more than what a mere mortal can lift.

But she doesn't, and Steve knows that if he wanted to, he could carry her. It feels wrong and right all at once, and like a world of responsibility suddenly falls on his shoulders. Diana weights what a normal woman of her size should, and it's so humanizing, so palpably vulnerable, that it makes Steve reel. But instead of ripping the fabric of his adoration that surrounds her, it pushes it aside and creates space for him to be truly with her. Suddenly, Steve feels closer to her, and he reminds himself how silly of him to have felt otherwise.

Despite how powerful, knowledgeable and beautiful Diana is, she is also here. She is not on a pedestal, she is not a flawless, unreachable being, and Steve proves that again and again by simply sliding his fingers over her skin, his body against hers.

Diana is right here, with him, as she had been since they met. Surprising him, ruffling him, delighting him, sharing her wonder at life and the world, as well as her struggles. He remembers her tasting ice cream for the first time, how she told the vendor that he 'should be very proud'. Her trying on clothes, looking endearingly inadequate in the first ones she tried while he was still nearby, but beautifully confident in the one she ended up picking.

How torn she was when they got to the front, and there were too many people for her to help. How, despite how wondrous she is, she is not perfectly self-sufficient. He, his presence, _makes_ a difference for her. He could carry her if she needed him to, not only literally, but figuratively. It's a revelation that should have been obvious, but when it hits, it's not. And the difference it makes is that Steve realizes that he adores Diana not because she is perfect, but because she is Diana.

Then, while still kissing him, she moves her pelvis, brushing the curls of her sex against his cock in a very suggestive way, and any semblance of coherent thought vanishes as if it was never there. He would have been hardly pressed to remember his own surname if asked at the moment. The kiss, soft and sweet, picks up speed and urgency. Diana's lips press hard against his, their tongues exploring each others mouths.

As good as it is, there's the unrelenting need for more. For Diana, that is a fuzzy feeling that she, on the tiny part of her brain that can still function, knows the meaning of. For Steve, it's the almost compulsive desire to be inside her, to melt into her, encompass her so all they can feel is each other. On a primitive level, all he wants is to shove his cock into her pussy, to make her moan and writhe until he fires his release inside her. Diana, in her own unexplored way, wishes the same. It's animalistic, but tinged with the intensity of feelings they have for one another, it's also inherently human.

Neither knows who moves first, but Steve pushes forward and Diana steps back, until her calves touch the edge of the bed so graciously offered to them, and with a pull and a shove Diana and Steve fall on it. He is on top of her, and without conscious command from her endorphin-addled brain Diana opens her legs to accommodate his hips, and his cock comes to direct contact with her warm, wet pussy.

Steve instinctively thrusts and his cock slides over her slickness, nudging her clit just the right way to make her moan and tremble and to become coated with her essence. It's not elegant or coordinated, but they can't help but rut against each other like that, the stimulation they both get so good that they don't want to stop, but just on this side of not enough, so that the act is deliciously torturous.

Meanwhile, their mouths still move together, out of synchronicity, sloppily, wetly. Steve slides his mouth from hers when the need to breath becomes pressing, but putting any distance between his lips and her skin seems like an unacceptable loss for him, so he rains damp kisses down her face and her neck, breathing her in and tracing the arch of her throat. He can't get enough of her, her smell, her skin, how warm she feels against him, how attuned his ears are to even the tiniest sounds she makes, how all of that is translating itself to the hardest erection he ever had and how lovely the thought of soothing that ache with the tight, slick softness of her pussy is.

Diana hadn't know it was possible to feel this good before she is feeling it. With every second that goes by, it somehow gets stronger, deeper, more intense. She thought she knew herself, knew how good an orgasm could make her feel, knew how incredible another's exploration upon her skin could be, but she didn't, she doesn't. Steve's every new touch, new act, new sound makes her climb a mountain she didn't even know was there. She aches for him, to feel him fully, to have his cock deep inside of her, but the motion of him against her is driving her higher and higher, the torture of it all the more sweet for the promise of what is still to come.

Diana doesn't have fodder to compare Steve to, she doesn't know if he is actually above average, and truly, it doesn't matter. But what she does know is that the hard thickness she feels between her legs, heavy against her core, is bigger than anything she ever had inside of her in the past, and the idea of it breaching her, stretching her, opening her up to accommodate it is impossibly satisfying. But she is so close, so close to that drop, that looming peak that tastes like the sweetest death, she doesn't move to push him inside. Her legs clench around Steve's hips, trapping him against her. Her hands, on a single moment of lucidity, regretfully leave their place on his back to grasp at the sheets, and her eyes chases his, as Steve finally manages to pull his mouth away from her skin.

After a couple more thrusts that roughly stimulate Diana where she is the most sensitive, the peak and the drop that waits on the other side come, so intense that her vision spots and her ears go deaf. Her mouth is open and she is breathing in air but it feels immaterial. Her eyes don't close, and the expression on Steve's face as he watches Diana have the most intense orgasm of her 5000 years of life is almost as good a reward.

He stops moving when she finally comes down enough that maybe, perhaps, she can form a coherent thought. And because he couldn't not, even after what they have just done should be called sex by any meaningful definition of the word, Steve still has to ask. So he does.

"You sure about this, angel?" He is breathless, and his voice is low, but he is perfectly clear. In that moment he is as shy as someone with his confidence can be while still being himself. It goes completely over her head, because to Diana there is no question about Steve's worthiness of her. He is brave, strong, capable, intelligent, loving and he has made good on his promises to her.

To Diana, he is her equal, the same way any other Amazon is, but maybe even more because, different from them, he didn't watch her grow up, he isn't a part of the monarchical and cultural hierarchy of the Island she was born into. So his insecurity makes no sense to her, at all. She looks at him and she feels for him as strongly as he feels for her, but without imbalance, because Diana doesn't care if he can't deflect bullets like she does, isn't as fast or as strong as she is, that is not even a thought that registers on her brain. Every time she has fought, truly fought, he was by her side, doing the best he could to save people, same as she.

"I am." She mutters, simply, before pulling him close and kissing him, softly, sweetly, deeply. She sighs and pulls away. Her are eyes locked on his impossibly blue ones when Steve, slowly as if he is waiting for her to tell him to stop, reaches between their bodies and positions his erection on her entrance. Diana instinctively pushes against it with her hips just enough that there is pressure, and it takes all of Steve’s self control to not thrust into her. But Diana stops moving, as she remembers one of the first lessons that were taught to her about sex and pleasure, and frowns at her forgetfulness.

"Do you want this as well, Steve?" Diana asks, and Steve's eyes, already soft on hers, soften even further. He brings his hand to her face, cupping her jaw and running his calloused thumb lightly across the skin of her cheek. Diana feels like she is infinitely precious, and even though her mother and many of her sisters have made her feel that way before, this is different, somehow. It makes her breath catch and something warm grown inside of her chest.

"There is nothing else I want more." The cheesiness of such answer would normally make Steve flinch, but it's so unabashedly true, that he just allows himself to be honest. Diana is so hopelessly sincere, she makes him want to strive to be as good as she is. She seems to bring the best out of everyone she comes across, and he, as the one who has had the privilege of being closest to her, hasn't remained unaffected.

Diana parts her legs further when she feels Steve start to apply more pressure, the tip of his erection breaching her. Despite the rush of pleasure and lust threatening to consume them, the motion of his cock as it fills her core is slow and careful. There is no word to describe it except for reverent. For Steve, it’s not due to Diana’s divine-like attributes, or at least not only due to that anymore, but also to how deeply, impetuously, she makes him _feel_. How much hope she has given him, on actually making a difference, on winning this war, on humanity, on himself. How much love they developed for each other, even though neither of them are quite ready to admit to that just yet, in such short time. The happiness, sweetness, goodness she exudes. How hard she tries, how much she wants to help and how honest she is in all of that.

Also, of course, on a different level, how simply gorgeous she is, how unbearably delicious she smells, how her expression goes from a heated sort of curiosity, to surprise, to dizzy arousal as he penetrates her, how the sounds that accompany those seem to slide down his body to pool directly on his erection, how the grip of her pussy on his cock is as close to heaven as Steve knows he is ever going to get.

He bites his lip hard to keep from coming at the feel of her; the knowledge he is finally inside her unbearable heat and the torturous sight of her sweet, perfect pussy stretched open by his cock, makes it one of the most strenuous tasks he has ever accomplished. He does his best to gentlemanly wait for her to adjust and allow him to move, but Diana, unaware of that unspoken social rule, simply rolls her hips and grinds down on him. Steve groans from deep in his chest and thrusts against her.

His eyes are locked into hers, captivated by the emotions playing out on her face, openly. Pleasure, wonder, affection. Her mouth is slightly open and her breaths come in and out at a fast pace. Diana wasn’t winded at all right after crossing the No Man’s land, after fighting hundreds of armed soldiers, after jumping 40 feet up in the air and destroying a church with brute strength. But she is out of breath after less than a minute of sex with Steve. He can’t help but feel vainly proud at the realization.

Steve touches her as he starts a slow, firm pace. His thumbs caresses her face, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth where a pink tongue peaks out to lick at the pad of his finger and make him shudder, her chin, her neck. He reverently traces the lines her bones make under the skin of her clavicle, before sliding down towards perfectly round, small breasts with pale brown nipples, which pucker beautifully when Steve plays with them.

He stays there for a while, partially due to his own fascination with the soft but firm flesh, partially because they seem to be a sensitive spot for Diana, who shivers, moans and clenches at intervals as Steve explores them. At one point, when his mouth descends to capture one of them, she does all three at once and Steve feels like he is going to die if he doesn’t cum. But he doesn’t, because she hasn’t yet and he has made it his utmost mission to prove Clio wrong and make this as good for Diana as possible.

She, on the other hand, is not making it easy. As curious as she is, as generous as she is, Diana has been conducting her own explorations of his body as they move, tracing the lines of his muscles, every single part he has that she can reach. She ran her fingers over his stubble, over the hair on his chest, she even touched experimentally his nipples and was pleased to notice that despite his chest not being developed like a woman’s, he is still sensitive there. That gave her enough reason to also stay there a while and torture him with expert flicks and rubs, before she became too distracted by his explorations to continue.

While Steve is busily licking at her nipples and doing his very best to mark her chest, Diana slides her hands down his back and the curve of his behind to poke gently at the heavy sack of his testicles, which she hadn’t really explored before. The unexpected, intimate touch startles Steve, who bites down a bit too hard on the nipple he has inside his mouth and, in turn, makes Diana moan and clench hard on his cock.

Knowing he can’t keep this up for much longer and feeling the now steady pulsing of Diana’s pussy on his cock as she gets closer to completion, Steve lets the nipple he has been deliciously torturing pop out of his mouth and his hand abandons the other to slide down the flat plane of her belly and search for the tiny nub of her clitoris. He finds it quickly and rubs it with his thumb, watching her face as he does it. The change of position forces Diana’s hands to go back to safer, less sensitive areas, and she clutches his shoulders almost too hard when she feels his hand on her core.

With her last thread of barely coherent thinking, she closes her arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer and allowing her to clutch at her own arms instead of his as she is shoved head first over the peak. The movement drives his cock deliciously deep inside her spasming core, which almost forcibly pulls Steve’s own orgasm from him, careening him into a pleasure so intense it’s sweetly painful. They both come, almost at the same time, with their bodies so close together that everything that can touch, does, and their eyes locked on the other’s. It seems to last forever, it ends too soon.

Steve knows that if they somehow managed to not make enough noise to alert everyone of what they were doing together, then they just definitely did now. He finds that he does not have any spare inch of brainpower to care. All he knows is that he feels safe, warm, loved and deeply, more than he ever experienced before, satisfied. A feeling of languid happiness spreads over him, making his limbs and eyelids heavy. He watches as something similar can be seen on Diana’s expression. They look at each other, and Steve takes awhile to realize that the dopey smile he sees on his lover’s face is perfectly mirrored on his. They’ve caught their breath, the pulsing of their orgasms has long faded, and they continue like that. Except when they move, on unspoken accord, to lazily kiss, mouths slowly moving together.

“So… Do you think Clio should write a thirteenth volume?” Steve asks wickedly, pulling away only far enough to speak. Diana laughs, husky and freely.

**Author's Note:**

> :) 
> 
> Any thoughts? I'm a sucker for feedback :)
> 
> Oh, and Happy New Year to you all crazy kids!


End file.
